Mockingjay Blue
by InkblotsOnThePage
Summary: The mockingjays flew in front of her eyes, their white wings fluttering with excitement. "Shhh, it's ok." she whispered, opening her hands up to let her little mockingjay breathe. The blue wings were different from the normal ones. Just like her. Her name is Willow Mellark, the daughter of the mockingjay. She is the blue mockingjay. She is the mistake. She is schizophrenic.
1. Blood

**Hello, all! I've decided, I'm going to write Mockingjay Blue and whatever story you people propose I write! Well, anyways, if you're wondering about the names, Willow and Rye was recently released names by Suzanne Collins. The AN's going to move to the end of the chapter after the next chapter. **

**Sincerely, Inkblots!**

The long and toiling drive home was pure silence. Peeta steered the car between the tightly packed buildings, clearing his throat once in a while as if he was going to speak. He didn't, remaining silent for the entire ride back into the Victor Villa in the Capital, the residence for all the victors and more dedicated rebels after the rebellion. The Mellarks' house was by far the largest, a mansion to say in the very least.

It was too big a house in Katniss' opinion, as the only people residing in the five story high mansion was Peeta, Willow, Rye and herself. District 12 had been rebuilt so it was even better, the electric gates removed. Katniss had the little cabin fixed up, as well as her own house. She still lived in the Capital due to it being a requirement, but she made the occasional visit to District 12 every now and then.

But for once, Katniss didn't comment on the large house, instead pursing her lips as they drove into the garage. She quickly let Willow and Rye out of their seats, leading the two into the house. Peeta followed behind, locking the door behind him. As they entered the house, Katniss quickly led Willow and Rye to their rooms, kissing them goodnight.

"Goodnight, Rye. Goodnight, Willow." she said quietly, closing the doors. Willow sunk down into the green comforter, her nose pressing into her fluffy pillow. She tugged on her short brown hair, yet another thing that reminded everyone she was her mother's daughter. Their hair was exactly the same, even after she had cut it. She could hear everything through the thin walls of the mansion, so as soon as she heard a door click in place, she pressed her ear against the wall.

"Rough day." she heard her father say. Her mother answered with a bit of a grunt. Willow couldn't help but let out a bit of a sigh, relieved her mother didn't display anger. She stroked the tiny stuffed mockingjay, a gift her great uncle Haymitch had given her. The mockingjay, the symbol of rebellion, her mother. She rolled over to look at the ceiling, where more mockingjays were painted, their slightly black tinged wings fluttering about.

She still remembered the day her mother had proudly given her her own pet mockingjay, a blue colored one, unlike the regular white ones. In fact, her mother had said proudly, the only reason it was blue was because of a slight genetic glitch. Of course, Willow didn't care much about the genetics with her pet bird.

Now that she thought about, she was the blue mockingjay. She was supposed to be a regular white mockingjay, she was the great Katniss Everdeen's daughter, after all. But she was a genetic glitch, an unwanted mistake. She had her mother's dark hair, but although she did have her father's blue eyes, everyone told her she was the spitting image of Katniss. She was nothing but the continuation of the mockingjay.

So she became delusional, desperately wishing to be something else. She began to create illusions for herself, perfect worlds where she was another girl, in another place, anyone but her. The girls she decided to be were always differing in personality, until finally she couldn't tell them apart from her. She couldn't tell fantasy from reality. Everything was gray, her world had lost the black and white.

The blue in her began to show, she was no longer a duplicate of the mockingjay, she was the blue in the mockingjay, the glitch, the unwanted bird of the flock. Already, she could sense the disappointment her mother held in for her. Katniss said nothing though, not wanting to be unfair. Of course, it made no difference anymore for Willow.

The events of the day flashed before her eyes, as she tried to tell real from fake, attempting to deal with her mental disease. Schizophrenia, the doctor had said, a disease that made it hard for them to tell fantasy from reality. A large disappointment for being the mockingjay's daughter. Yet another way Rye way the better child, yet another reason she should've never been born.

She shook the thoughts away from her mind, attempting to see the good in her again. She reminded herself of every good thing she did, everything she succeeded in. Finally consented with herself, she fell asleep.

~Page Break~

The next day was Saturday, one day she could stay in the house before the publicity took over everything at her school. One day she could spend with her extended family, Saturday was the Mellark family dinner. She stayed in her room, busying herself with homework and school projects. Rye and her father were downstairs, busily chit chatting about whatever type of bread they would be making for the family potluck.

Her mother was out of the house, hunting in the little forestry in the Capital, something Katniss had reserved. It wasn't the same as the woods in the 12, but still, Katniss enjoyed her weekly hunts for their Saturday dinners. Willow thanked her lucky stars her mother had decided to go hunting as per usual, it gave her time to avoid the tension between them.

She didn't feel like going to the dinner. All the extended family would be there, and she knew her mother had already told them about her situation. She'd have to face her Uncle Finn, someone who always had a smile on his face. Would it still be there now that he knew? She'd have to talk to her Aunt Margaret, always ever so uptight like her mother. Would she be able to accept the situation?

Not to even mention the large array of cousins, the Hawthornes, the Masons, the Abernathys, the Latiers and the Everdeen-Mellarks. Even Annie Odair always came on the train from 4 every week. The weekly family dinner was a big deal for them, one of the many things the Mellarks did to recuperate after the rebellion.

Willow always looked forward to the dinners, but this time she wasn't sure. So many relatives would be hounding her. She couldn't help the thoughts that streamed into her head, her worries taking over her thoughts. She could see it already, everything ruined between the families because of her. She dared peek out the window, watching as her great uncle Haymitch fed his geese. He glanced up, for a second, and their eyes met.

She sunk into the floor, a choking sound escaping from her lips. Her mother had told. She saw the look in his eyes, a mixture of disappointment, pity and something else she couldn't quite tell. But she knew the rest of the family would wear the same look when they saw her, even the twins, always oblivious would look at her with their large eyes filled with pity.

The front door slammed open, jolting Willow out of her thoughts. She crept to her own bedroom door, peeking out of a tiny crack she had carved into the door, something she used to spy on the house. She opened her door a crack, tip-toeing out to meet her mother. She held the tiny mockingjay stuffed doll in her pocket, running her fingers up and down it's wings hoping it would bring her luck.

"Mom?" she squeaked, finally entering the kitchen. Her father and brother both smiled at her, the same pitiful look in their eyes. Her mother sat in a chair at the table, plucking a turkey. She looked up, and cracked a half smile. It would be enough for now. Willow sat down at the dinner table, attempting to separate the real from the unreal.

She had friends, but now she wasn't so sure. She'd heard her share of rumors, and it stung. The only people who had ever stood by her through the years were her family. And now, the rumors were getting stronger. She could feel her friends were avoiding her, there wasn't any messages for her for a while. She wanted to laugh and cry, to hide in her room and dance outside, she felt torn apart into two parts.

And it hurt her head. She felt a pounding in her head, drumming in her ears, her heart joining along, the pounding so sharp it made her eyes sting.

"Willow! Are you okay?" Willow was snapped out of her thoughts as she heard her mother shocking her out of her thoughts, concern in her voice. Willow looked down to where her mother was looking. A laugh escaped her lips, the sound hollow and cracked. In the midst of her thoughts, she had raked her nails up and down her leg, where 5 jagged red lines dripped into a neat puddle on the ground. She reached her bloodied hand to her face, tears already there.

It was the state she was in when the relatives arrived just one minute later, sobbing and laughing at the same time, her leg bleeding while her parents attempted to clean her up.

* * *

><p>Breathe in. Breathe out. It took everything in her to simply will herself to breathe and live. Oh, she wanted to die. She had completely destroyed the dinner with her issues, as she sobbed and laughed and bled in every room, running her blood stained fingers across the white walls, the crimson stripes decorating the ivory walls.<p>

Tears began to fall from her eyes, a wet patch on the pillow growing bigger and bigger, each sorrow adding to the blob of tears. Her mother must be exhausted she thought, gasping for air, from cleaning the house from her blood and then cleaning her.

She closed her eyes, watching pink butterflies drift across her mind, swirling upwards to the sun. The peacefulness of her half-dreams made her smile, although she still didn't sleep. She wanted to stay in her haven forever, a little world nothing could damage. Not even her own monster could damage the perfect world, somewhere she was safe, somewhere she could be truly her.

Only she wasn't ever her. She was never her. She was always someone else. She had lost herself. The conflicting personalities started to pull herself out of her safe haven, until she was back in reality, a world where no one loved her, a world where she was truly alone. But then she desperately clawed herself back into her haven, only to be dragged out again.

The toils of her life were exhilarating, and now she was shattered. She wanted to curl into a tight ball and die, but she also wanted to be happy.

She fell asleep at 12:07.

* * *

><p><strong>Review! Constructive criticism appreciated! Ideas too!<strong>

**~Verra**


	2. Tears

**Chapter Two: Tears**

Her alarm woke her up before the sun rose, just the way she liked to wake up every morning. Her memories were scattered, only bits and pieces. She faintly remembered bleeding, but somehow her next memory was painting the walls with her family, the last of her memories being watching twenty four-she had counted-mockingjays fly off towards the forest. She pulled out her notepad, something Dr. Aurelius Jr. had given her to deal with schizophrenia.

_Patient: Willow Primrose Mellark_

_Disease: Schizophrenia_

_Notes: _

She pressed her pencil under her chin, contemplating how to start her first 'entry' to Dr. Aurelius Jr.

_Today is Monday, September 8th of Year 36 NP. I cannot remember what actually happened yesterday. I was bleeding. And then I was painting the walls. And then mockingjays flew away, but not my mockingjay. Not the blue one, the different one. She couldn't fly away, because the other birds wouldn't accept her. And she would die. _

_Now I can remember more. I was painting the walls red, and the blue mockingjay helped me, she used her wings to paint the walls. But it wasn't paint. It was blood. And I was bleeding. Only I wasn't anymore. The mockingjay isn't blue anymore. She's red. But she still doesn't fit in. She still looks weird compared to the white ones._

_Today I have school. My mockingjay said she was going to come along too. She told me this, but she can't talk. I just know. I don't know, but I know. I'm nervous about school. They will stare at us, the schizophrenic girl and her red mockingjay. But I'm not schizophrenic. The tests were wrong. But I might be schizophrenic. I'm so confused…_

Willow slammed the notebook shut, her hands pressed against her eyes. Water began running down her hands, her tears created two puddles on her desk. She made no sound as two streams rolled down her cheeks, her breathing still even as if she weren't crying at all. She stared at the notebook, her name written in marker on the front cover by Dr. Aurelius Jr. She grabbed the notebook, determined to destroy evidence of her insanity.

Her feet carried her past her parents' room, her brother's room, and she was finally in the kitchen, her hands tightly gripping the notebook. She started shaking, but she didn't know why, she didn't think she was scared. She dropped the book on the floor, following it after, until she was sobbing loudly on the stone floor shaking violently.

"Willow?" she looked up, watching her mother eyeing her with concern. "Willow, are you okay?!" She nodded meekly, her tears still falling from her eyes.

"I'm," she cleared her throat, "I'm fine, mom. Just a little rattled. Um…the book had a stain on it and I started freaking out." She smiled, so widely she could taste her own tears as they dropped down from her face.

"Ok. Um, are you okay now?" her mother's voice was strained, as she helped Willow off the floor. Willow nodded, clutching her notebook to her chest again. She couldn't destroy it now, not when her mother was already concerned. She'd have to destroy it later.

"Go eat something. School will start soon." Katniss gave a rather loud yawn, gliding quietly out of the room again. Willow let out a sigh of relief, shoving her notebook deep into her backpack. She grabbed a few cheese buns, stuffing one in her mouth.

* * *

><p>She was quiet the entire car ride to <em>Rebel's Children Private School, <em>the school specially designed to help the children of anyone directly associated with the rebellion. In other words, more like her. Other people overshadowed by their parents, other people who would never get a future completely clear of their past, other people with no chance to be anything other but another mockingjay, another rebel, another tribute.

She entered the school her hair in front of her eyes, trying not to be recognized by anyone. She would never live it down, being the schizophrenic daughter of the mockingjay.

But no matter how hard she tried, her looks made it hard for her to go unnoticed. However, luckily, Alwina was the first to notice her. While Alwina's parents weren't as high up as Willow's, the two had quickly become friends upon Willow realizing the rest of the kids on her parents' level were snobs. Alwina, simply the daughter of a District 8 General of some sort, was always there for Willow.

"Hey, Will. I heard about…you know." Alwina clamped her mouth shut, afraid of offending Willow, something she did often enough. Willow gave out a groan, upset the rumor had already gotten to the school. Her eyes were downcast, but she nodded in reply to Alwina.

The two walked silently to their homeroom class, Willow desperately trying to get a grip on her emotions and Alwina trying not to say something out of place. Upon entering the room, all eyes turned to them, the schizophrenic girl and her best friend.

"Mellark and Argenis, there's new seating arrangements today. Both of you, by the window." They both hurried to obey the strict Miss Amyntas, knowing full well the consequences that would follow should they not.

"Alright. Class, turn to page 78. Begin reading. Mellark, I'm going to need to see you here for a second." Miss Amyntas sat down tensely in the chair, her lips pursed in agitation. Willow, her head bowed down, quickly walked over to the desk, expecting a lecture on time management or something of the likes.

"Your mother called me early, we know about your condition. Do not think it means you get off easy for things, but I will give you some support. Understood?" the woman glared at Willow, raising an eyebrow as she waited for her to reply.

"Yes, Miss Amyntas." Willow managed to squeak out. She went back to her seat, continuing to work on the problems in front of her. She bit back tears, knowing how much Miss Amyntas hated her for her unmotivated attitude.

* * *

><p>She managed to go through the day without any other distraction. She dreaded the end of the day the most, the long road she walked to get to the Hangout. She'd have to avoid the rest of the student body.<p>

"Mellark!" She groaned. She could recognize the taunting voice anywhere. Ashwin Paylor, a boy

who thought he was better than everyone simply because his mother was high in societal standing.

"A, Willow Mellark. The schizophrenic little twerp. What a little surprise, the mockingjay's turned dark." Ashwin taunted, his henchmen closing in tightly, bumping into her ever so often. Finally, they lurched out, snatching her backpack from her.

"That's mine!" Willow growled, feeling thoroughly done. She lunged at Ashwin, but was held back by two other boys.

"Let's see, what do we have here?" Ashwin smirked, pulling out the notebook. He flipped through the page, bored. "Aren't you too old to be writing fairytales, Mellark? Or maybe you're so delusional you think you're five!"

"That." Willow kicked the boys in the shins. "Is." She calmly walked towards Ashwin, her fists clenched at her side. "MINE!" She attempted to smash in Ashwin's face, but was stopped by the watch Ashwin wore. The sharp edge of the watch cut her skin, causing her fingers to bleed.

"Looks like the poor little blue mockingjay can be stopped!" Ashwin cackled, tossing her notebook back to her. Grabbing the notebook, Willow quickly fled the school, slamming herself onto the cold floor of the storage closet, sobbing into her knees, her sweat pants becoming soaked with her tears.

She cried for herself. She cried for her family. She cried because too many had been bullied by Ashwin, yet no one stood up to him because of his parents. She screamed, slamming her foot into the wall of the closet.

The blue mockingjay flew to her side, dusting the tears off her face, whispering to her to stop caring, to stop her emotions. Willow listened, following the mockingjay to her Hangout, wiping off her tears as she followed the mockingjay to the abandoned warehouse she had founded for the slightly crazier girls in the class.

"Will!" they shrieked in excitement. She was enveloped in a shower of praises for being diagnosed as crazy, unlike the rest of them, a group of the unwanted, the insane, the excluded. They were the crazies, the only girls who didn't attempt to be popular.

The only other girl truly diagnosed sat in the corner, sulking to herself. Juliette Lynn, diagnosed with DID, sometimes annoying and sometimes amazing. Willow sat herself down with her friends, willing to sit back just to watch them chat happily with each other, forgetting about their sad lives for once.

They were the most mature out of the entire school, but chose to act immature simply to cope with the pain.

Violet Latier, the adoptive granddaughter of Beetee Latier, and the young genius. She was the inventor of everything, including a tiny little chip she had implanted in every student's ear, so they could spy on everything.

Finnigan Joe, the most immature of the group. He managed to get everyone relaxed, even Violet, the usually uptight and OCD girl. He suffered from depression, they had all seen the cuts on his arms.

Morgana Ursa, the prettiest girl in the entire school. She easily could've been popular had it not been for her dark past, she has seen her mother die before her eyes in a Capitolist attack on the military base they lived on.

Boggs Major, made fun of for being scrawny and having a weird name. He had been turned down by so many girls that he had become immune to rejection.

And finally, Willow. The ring-leader, the schizophrenic, the girl whose emotions never really worked properly.

Together, the five were the abandoned, the unloved, the rejected. They helped each other, and always helped each other out. And of course, they fought against the bullies. They needed each other to pass high school without being harassed by the other students. They were co-dependent, like trees with roots entwined together, if one fell the others would tumble with it.

* * *

><p>She entered the house after midnight, tip toeing up to her room, devoid of emotions from all the chaos that had happened from the day. She wanted to give up, to simply die there, she had no more motivation to live.<p>

Her parents and brother had undoubtedly gone to sleep already, so as she sat at her desk, yawning as she scribbled her homework, she was the only one in the house up. She didn't want to go to school. She didn't want to pretend to be fiery.

But she was fiery. She pulled out her notebook again, feeling like she needed to write some more thoughts.

_My name is Willow Primrose Mellark. I have a fiery personality. But I don't want to be fiery anymore. I can't feel anything. I don't feel the same way about some people as they do for me, I don't feel anything at all. I don't care anymore. I don't want to be Willow Mellark. I want to be anyone else. _

_I don't feel like fire anymore. I feel like ice. There is nothing left. I wish I could disappear, and never come back. I wish I was nothing. I wish I was gone. It doesn't matter. The mockingjays still sing. _

_I don't understand my own mind. I can hear the mockingjays outside singing, but I can't hear my own voice speaking. All I can hear is the mockingjay's song. I don't like it. They're taunting me, they're going to try to take me away from everyone. They're hunting me down. I'm scared. But I can't feel anything. _

_The blue mockingjay is blue again. The flowers are starting to wilt. I feel nothing at all. I know who likes me, and I said yes. But I didn't like him. And I broke everything. It fell on the ground, and it shattered. They all yelled at me. And I wanted to cry. And I did cry. I cried a pool of tears and then they swam in it. _

_Aunt Johanna doesn't let me swim. She says water is dangerous. I don't understand. I'm so confused lately. But I don't really care…_

She sank down on the plush bed, closing her eyes in frustration. Another wrong turn, another dead end. And her writing didn't make sense at all, now that she read it again. Shattered vases and wilting flowers fluttered around her mind with mockingjay wings. She sunk her face into the pillow, crying once again that day. She was weak.

That night she fell asleep even later, the dark circles under her eyes gaining another shade.

She fell asleep at 1:34 AM.

**A/N: Anyways, I've grown to really love Willow. She's my life in a nutshell. I'm not diagnosed, but its a high possibility that I do. So...this is based on my life. *waits for everyone to run out screaming* Anyways...this story is my baby.**

**Review please. It would mean the world to me. **


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